


Jeremie

by lunesolei



Series: List [3]
Category: Code Lyoko
Genre: Angst, Background Relationships, Background Slash, Canon Het Relationship, Coming of Age, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Growing Up, M/M, Multi, Saving the World
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29074542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunesolei/pseuds/lunesolei
Summary: Here-in reside the twenty-five things Jeremie doesn't really disclose.Will contain hints of slash, canon het, het in general, friendships, family, and growing up.
Relationships: Jeremie Belpois/Aelita Schaeffer, Odd Della Robbia/Ulrich Stern, Yumi Ishiyama/Ulrich Stern
Series: List [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/35857
Comments: 14
Kudos: 48





	1. List

**Author's Note:**

> And so begins the next List. A companion List to the ones already done for Yumi and Ulrich, this time focusing on our favorite Einstein. To those of you joining from Ulrich's or Yumi's List, I hope you enjoy this one just as much as those (or more). To those of you who may be new, this chapter will be the List, and then 25 chapters will follow, varying in length, on the subject of each number.

1\. Sometimes he thought he was the sanest one of all his friends.

2\. He (kind-of-sort-of) preferred the name "Maya." But he would never tell her that.

3\. A small part of him resented the fact that everyone else was so much better at being sociable.

4\. After Ulrich showed him how to get to the school roof he spent his sleepless nights up there mapping the stars.

5\. His favorite memory is of crisp autumn mornings and the smell of baking bread.

6\. Sometimes he wonders what would have happened if they _had_ let Sissi in on the secret.

7\. He wasn't _ashamed_ of being poorer than his friends; he just didn't want any pity (he told himself).

8\. He was seven when he decided he wanted to be a scientist.

9\. His mother succumbed to cancer when he was fourteen (he was grateful).

10\. The first time Odd flirted with Aelita he almost punched him (sometimes he wished he had).

11\. He (maybe) shed a tear when his laptop died.

12\. He almost threw up the first time he kissed Aelita.

13\. Sometimes he wished he'd had a sibling or two growing up.

14\. His first kiss was a week before he got his acceptance letter with a girl named Suzette Arthur. Her eyes were the same shade as Aelita's.

15\. After the first Loss he promised he would never let it happen again (he hates failing).

16\. He still has to pinch himself when he realizes that they _pulled it off_ and Aelita is here permanently.

17\. For the longest time he thought of Ulrich as just another dumb jock that got in on a sports scholarship (sometimes he still thinks it).

18\. No matter how much his friends beg, he refuses to say what happened during his one-and-only materialization.

19\. If he was honest, he never looked at Odd and Ulrich the same way after they became Odd-and-Ulrich.

20\. Saturday nights were Game Nights and more fun than he ever expected.

21\. His father called every Sunday without fail, except for once.

22\. Being on the national news _was_ pretty awesome.

23\. Sometimes he regretted having shut down X.A.N.A.

24\. Getting into l'X was one of the best moments of his life.

25\. He loved Aelita, he did. Really.


	2. Sane

  1. _Sometimes he thought he was the sanest one of all his friends._



“So, what’s your favorite sport?” the brown-haired one, Ulrich, asks.

Jeremie doesn’t bother to look up from the screen in front of him. He doubts that the other boy is speaking to him. Everyone knows his limitations when it comes to gym class. Even the younger years, unfortunately.

“Eh,” Odd replies. “I’m not huge on sports, I guess skiing and I gotta support the Løvene, you know?”

“You’re kidding, they’re terrible!” Ulrich laughs.

“Hey! That’s my national team you’re talking about!”

“Too bad the last time they were in FIFA was back in 1998.”

There’s a grunt and a groan followed by a yelp and Jeremie does look up then. The two boys are rolling around on his dorm room floor, elbowing each other and just generally rough-housing. Jeremie stares at them, bewildered. “What are you fighting about?”

Odd looks up from where Ulrich has him temporarily pinned to the carpet. “Fighting? We aren’t fighting, are we?”

Ulrich looks at Jeremie, eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “No, why would we be fighting?”

Jeremie blinks at them both, shakes his head, and goes back to looking at the source codes.

. . … . .

“No.”

“Come on, Einstein, it’ll be awesome!”

“No, Odd.”

Odd pouts the whole way to chemistry, but Jeremie ignores him. He doesn’t care how much Odd pouts, he is _not_ setting their lab station on fire. Again.

. . … . .

He’s sitting on his favorite bench in the courtyard, getting his recommended fifteen minutes of sunlight, when someone plunks down next to him. Judging by the fact that he doesn’t immediately have appendages jostling him, he knows it’s not Odd. He glances over, sees Yumi holding two coffees and smiles.

“How’s the code coming?” Yumi asks. She holds out one of the coffee cups and he takes it gratefully.

“It’s trickier than I anticipated,” he admits. He taps the edge of his laptop distractedly. “Aelita is linked more closely than I imagined she’d be.”

“I thought you said you could isolate her coding?”

“I can,” he agrees. He takes a sip of the hot coffee. He knows it doesn’t work that quickly, but he imagines he can feel the caffeine infusing his veins already. His headache already seems to be receding. “The materialization program is what’s going to be hard. There’s so much data here that I don’t even know where to begin.” He takes another sip of coffee, eyes scanning the programming text.

“Do you think Emily is pretty?”

Jeremie chokes on his mouthful of coffee and rubs at his watering eyes. When the tears clear he blinks at Yumi, confused. “Pardon?” he rasps.

“Emily,” she nods over to where the brown-haired girl is laughing across the quad. “Do you think she’s pretty?”

Jeremie glances over at where the other girl and Ulrich are talking by the library stairs. Yumi is still beside him and he sighs, pushes his glasses up from where they slipped down his nose during his coughing fit. “I guess,” he says.

Yumi spares him a look before returning to studying the two. “She and Ulrich seem pretty close lately.”

“I guess.” He shrugs, setting the coffee carefully on the ground by his feet, before returning to his programming.

“Are they dating?”

Jeremie rolls his eyes, typing in a few commands. “I don’t know, ask Ulrich.”

“Ulrich doesn’t like to talk about personal stuff.”

“Then why would he tell _me_?” Jeremie asks.

Yumi shrugs and goes back to drinking her own coffee. “I don’t know, boy talk?”

Jeremie snorts. “Then ask Odd? Ulrich and I don’t have a lot in common.”

Yumi sighs and crosses her legs, resuming her vigil. “I was just curious what he sees in her.”

Jeremie pauses and looks at her. “Look, if you like him you should-”

“Ulrich and I are just friends.”

“Then you shouldn’t care if he’s into Emily,” Jeremie replies. He turns back to the computer as it beeps and he frowns. “There’s an alert from the supercomputer,” he says. “Looks like break’s over, come on. Go time.” Yumi groans as she gets to her feet.

. . … . .

Jeremie stares at them incredulously. “Have you lost your minds?” he asks.

Odd shrugs and runs fingers through his hair. “What’s got your undies in a twist, Einstein? Nothing went wrong.”

Jeremie feels his mouth work, but no sounds come out. Ulrich offers him a one-shouldered shrug and pats down his pockets. “Look at it as a feat for science, yeah?”

“Do you hear them?” Jeremie asks, turning to Yumi and Aelita for support.

“I hear them,” Yumi replies, voice dry. She has her arms crossed, but her eyes are bright and Jeremie suspects she isn’t wholly on his side after all. “You two are insane.” There’s definitely a smile there, and Jeremie groans loudly.

Odd grins brightly and slings an arm around Ulrich’s shoulders. “Come on, you know it was brilliant!”

Aelita doesn’t try to hide her smile. She throws herself on both boys, wrapping them in a hug. “Jeremie is right!” she exclaims. “That was utterly reckless, but you did make quite an entrance!”

“You materialized in the same scanner,” Jeremie mutters. “Did you _want_ a Kiwi-incident repeat?”

Odd shrugs. “At least I don’t have to worry about a tail with Ulrich.”

“Thanks,” Ulrich replies. He shrugs and looks at Jeremie. “You said we were in a time-crunch,” he points out.

Jeremie sighs, exasperated. “Next time I say “we’re in a hurry,” that doesn’t mean _jump in the same scanner and give Jeremie a heart-attack_. Just to be clear.”

“Got it,” Odd replies brightly. “But the other times are cool, right?”

. . … . .

Aelita is lounging on his bed, idly flipping through a magazine while he works on the programming for his newest robot. She has the iPod hooked up to the speaker and is playing some kind of jazz music that she’s gotten into lately. He’s bent over, working with the wiring and attempting to figure out why the robot only skitters sideways like a crab instead of moving forward, listening to the music.

“We should go skydiving after we graduate.”

He startles, and the robot skitters to the left and topples over on the thin carpeting. “What?” he asks. He half twists to stare at her.

Aelita shifts around, holding the magazine up. It’s some kind of travel magazine, he realizes. “Skydiving,” she repeats. She brushes her pink-blonde hair out of her eyes and smiles at him. “There’s a place in Bouloc, see?”

“Wait, back-up. Skydiving?”

“Yeah, wouldn’t that be fun?”

He blinks at her. “You want to jump out of a plane…willingly? When it isn’t crashing?”

Aelita laughs, sitting up and crossing her feet. She wiggles her toes and he’s momentarily distracted by the bright pink llama socks she’s wearing. “We’d have a parachute,” she replies. She points to the pictures in the magazine. “Look how gorgeous the scenery is.”

“Uh-huh,” he replies doubtfully.

She leans over and rights the fallen robot. “It’ll be so much fun!”

She dog-ears the page, still smiling. “After graduation, huh?” he asks.

Her smile widens and she leans over further, planting a kiss on his cheek. “It’ll be awesome!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note: I do not support Ulrich’s criticisms of the Løvene football team.


	3. Maya

  1. _He (kind-of-sort-of) preferred the name “Maya.” But he would never tell her that._



If you asked him what he’d expected when he’d first found the factory and turned on the super-computer, he’d be hard-pressed to tell you what exactly he’d thought he’d find. Maybe some old records or interesting programs and hardware he could salvage for his newest robot.

The image of a girl with pink hair and brilliant eyes staring back at him from the computer screen? Not so much.

“Hello?” the girl says. Her voice echoes in the abandoned factory and Jeremie blinks at the screen dumbly. “Hello?” the girl repeats. “Who are you?”

“I’m, uh,” he coughs, clears the old factory dust from his throat, “I’m Jeremie.”

“Hello, Jeremie,” she says. And he maybe detects a hint of warmth beneath her confusion. He swallows. “Who are you?” she repeats.

“I’m a student,” he replies. He gestures vaguely in the direction of the school and she turns her face, following the direction of his hand even though she’s not able to see anything. “At the, uh, school. Kadic,” he adds. “Who are you?”

She frowns, the picture momentarily pixelating before smoothing out again. “I’m not sure,” she replies.

“Are you some sort of artificial intelligence program?” he asks. He clicks through files on the computer, looking at a map that springs up along with a series of coding. “Maybe a user interface?”

“Artificial intelligence?”

“Yeah, you know, a type of program that can learn and reason given the right conditions and commands. If so, you’re pretty advanced.” He adjusts his glasses and peers at the coding, trying to make sense of it.

She frowns at him. “I don’t think I like being called Artificial Intelligence,” she says. “You have a name, why can’t I?”

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking it over. “Okay, what name do you like?” he asks, looking back at her.

She looks puzzled. “I’m not sure, what do you think would be best?”

. . … . .

It takes him longer than he’d like to admit to remember that her name _isn’t_ Maya. It’s ridiculous, she only had it for a short period of time.

It’s not that he doesn’t _like_ the name Aelita. It’s just that his tongue trips over the syllables. It’s just that it sounds so jarring, that final hard –ta compared to the soft, melodic _my-ah_.

. . … . .

Growing up, Saint-Saën’s _Le Cygne_ was his mother’s favorite piece to wind down the day with. After he’d finish his homework, he would stand in the doorway to the small living room and watch her move to the music under the watchful eyes of his mother’s collection of photos of Anna Pavlova, Sylvie Guillem, and Maya Pliseteskaya. 

“Maman,” he said, watching her move about the room, humming along with the old player. “Why this song?”

She would take his hand, pulling him into the room and into the dance she was doing. “You can feel the swan’s struggle,” she explained. “This wild thing that yearns to explore the world, soar through the stars, and is instead trapped and dying because she cannot escape the earthly bonds we are all caught in.”

He shook his head and stopped the ridiculous twirling motion she had pulled him into. “We learned about this in school, Maman,” he states. “It’s called gravity and everything is affected by it. It’s why water flows down and we don’t all float away. Wanting to change that is like wanting to turn a rock into a tree. It’s just not possible.”

She caught his chin in her hands and smiled at him gently. “We all have that desire to soar, _mon petit étoile_ , do not forget that.”

. . … . .

“We should give her a middle name,” Odd says.

“She doesn’t need a middle name,” Jeremie protests.

“Aelita Stones just sounds…strange,” Ulrich comments. “Almost everyone has a middle name.”

“Okay, what about Maya then?” he asks, grasping at the first name to come into his head.

Yumi wrinkles her nose. “Aelita Maya? It doesn’t flow right, does it?”

“Well, what would _you all_ suggest?” Jeremie demands, disgruntled. He’s been up for almost 72 hours and his latest hit of caffeine wore off two hours ago. He hadn’t expected forging official documentation to be _quite_ so time consuming.

Odd leans over, bumping Jeremie’s shoulder. “How about Signy?” he asks. “Aelita Signy Stones.”

“Why Signy?” Yumi asks, frowning.

“Well, if she’s going to be my cousin then she should have a name to match. Anyway, it means “victory” and _this_? This is _definitely_ a victory against ol’ you-know-who,” he states, grinning widely at the rest of the group.

. . … . .

“I always wondered,” Aelita mentions one day, “why _Maya_?”

“What?” he asks. He looks over at her as they cross the bridge back to Kadic. They had spent the afternoon running diagnostics on the supercomputer and working on isolating the source codes.

Aelita blushes, cheeks turning a light pink that he finds more endearing than he should – given that it’s an involuntary reaction. “You probably don’t remember,” she says. She tugs at the frayed end of the left sleeve of her hoodie. “Back when you first found…when we first met,” she corrects. “Back then, you called me Maya. I just wondered why?”

Jeremie shrugs, tightening his scarf. The leaves crunch under their feet and he can see the school buildings through the trees. Aelita is still watching him, green eyes bright and still just as curious as always. “It was the first name that came to mind,” he replies. He gives her a small smile. “Aelita is much more fitting and original.”

. . … . .

Once a year, on their anniversary, his parents would go to the ballet. Jeremie was sent to his aunt and uncle’s house for the weekend to play with his cousin, Patrick. His mother would pull out her best dress and good shoes. When he was younger he would help her brush her hair while she outlined her eyes or added blush to her pale skin. When he was older he helped her select which scarf she’d use to accessorize. 

His father would come in with a bouquet of fresh yellow daffodils which would be placed in the center of the kitchen table until they eventually began to wilt. After that his mother would press them between the pages of books.

His parents would pick him up Sunday morning, laughing that he already had his overnight bag packed and his teeth brushed. His mother would smile as she described the latest show to him. It sounded magical and dreamlike and not at all like something that would happen in the real world.

. . … . .

The first time he brings Aelita home, he is seventeen and it is spring break. They take the train north-east, away from Paris, and disembark in Reims. His father is waiting for them at the train station. He has a cap covering his graying brown hair and is wearing the tweed coat with the patches on the elbows that his mother was always repairing. One is coming loose now and Jeremie stares at it for a moment too long.

“Aelita,” he greets warmly. He kisses her on each cheek, smiling brightly. “It is good to see you again.” He turns to Jeremie, pulling him into a warm hug. “Jeremie.”

“Hello, Papa,” he greets.

“It’s good to see you again, Mr. Belpois!” Aelita enthuses. “Thank you for having me!”

“Come on, let’s get to the house.” He picks up Aelita’s bag in spite of her protests and leads them to the car. “I stopped at the boulangerie for some fresh baguettes,” he adds.

Jeremie is quiet in the car, he stares out the window and let’s Aelita’s excited chatter wash over him. She questions his father on everything – how long he’s lived in the area (his whole life), what he did for work (bit of this-and-that), and on-and-on. His father is smiling when they pull up to the converted apartment building, laughing as Aelita oohs-and-aahs.

“Are you alright?” Aelita asks, as his father takes their bags upstairs.

“Of course,” he replies. “How do you like it?” he asks. “I know it isn’t that large…”

“Jeremie,” she says, voice firm, “it’s perfect just the way it is.” She kisses him before following his father through the open door.

Jeremie takes a breath and follows her into the apartment. She’s examining the pictures on the wall, the ones his father never took down and Jeremie couldn’t bring himself to move. Maya and Anna and Sylvie still in their plain black frames, still carefully dusted.

“Ah,” his father says, seeing what’s caught her attention. “Jeanne…Jeremie’s mother, she loved the ballet. Those are her favorite dancers.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know them,” Aelita says.

His father chuckles. “Wouldn’t expect you to,” he comments.

“That’s Sylvie Guillem,” he says, pointing to the one on the left. “Anna Paplova,” he adds, pointing to the one on the right. He pauses. “Maya Pliseteskaya, Maman’s favorite.”

He feels Aelita looking at him and looks over at her. She gives him a small smile. “She’s lovely,” she says finally. “I did always like the name Maya.” He gives her a small smile as she reaches over and squeezes his hand.


	4. Social

  1. _A small part of him resented the fact that everyone else was so much better at being sociable._



Even though Patrick is only a year older than Jeremie, growing up he couldn’t help but idolize his older cousin. Patrick just seemed _cool_. Plus, he was already attending primary school while Jeremie was still stuck in maternelle.

Whenever he stayed over at his aunt and uncle’s, he was surprised at how easily Patrick could charm his mother into letting them stay up past bedtime or have one more biscuit before going to sleep. His aunt Sophie would give them both an indulgent smile, add two more cookies to the plate, and tell Jeremie, “now, don’t tell your maman. It’ll be our secret.”

He doesn’t realize that _everyone_ is charmed by Patrick until he starts primary school at six.

//

“Hey!” Patrick yells.

The other boys look up, seeing Patrick running down the street toward them. They scatter before Patrick reaches them and Jeremie watches them go listlessly. Patrick crouches down, picking up Jeremie’s fallen book-bag.

“Thanks,” Jeremie says, taking the bag from him.

“What was that about?” Patrick questions. He looks at Jeremie. “They picking on you?”

“No,” Jeremie replies. “I guess I missed the social cues saying _go away_.”

“So, picking on you,” Patrick states. He stands up, dusting his hands off on his trousers. “I’ve told you I could try teaching you martial arts again.”

Jeremie snorts and adjusts his glasses. “I’m no good at martial arts.”

Patrick is still frowning as they walk down the street. “What was it about this time?”

“I was telling them about the new planet they think they found. The others weren’t as interested.” He shrugs. “They just wanted to talk about sports.”

Patrick gives him a wry grin. He knocks a fist lightly against Jeremie’s head. “Maybe you should try talking about sports instead, if you want friends.”

Jeremie makes a face. “That’s boring. All you’re trying to do is get a ball from one side to another.” He sticks his tongue out at Patrick as the older boy laughs. “Anyway, I don’t need friends. I have you.”

//

Denis’s father works for the Ministry of Agriculture and is transferred to their region when they’re eight. His popularity lasts two weeks before he is no longer an oddity and instead becomes integrated into the class, almost like he’s been there from day one.

Jeremie doesn’t think much about him at first, but their fathers work together and inevitably they get pushed together. Denis knows a surprising amount about machinery and they fall to designing and building their own robot.

He’s not sure if he’d classify Denis as a _friend_ , but he’s the closest one he’s had outside of Patrick, even if they don’t always get each other’s references.

//

Denis is the one who convinces them to go to summer camp. Patrick had left the pamphlet behind when he’d spent the night the previous weekend, trying to goad Jeremie into joining. Jeremie had no interest in outdoor sports or living, and sleeping on the ground sounded painful. But, Denis had flipped through the brochure while Jeremie tinkered with their newest robot.

“Did you know this place has computing?”

“Does it?” Jeremie asks, distracted.

“Yeah, it says there’s a whole programming section.” Jeremie looks up, intrigued. “Maybe our parents will let us go.”

“I don’t know,” Jeremie replies, frowning.

“It says that there will be an instructor from l’X,” Denis adds. Jeremie feels his resolve wavering. “How cool would that be?”

//

Afterwards, he refers to it as The Summer Camp Incident. It starts off fine; he and Denis are in a cabin with two other boys who are interested in robotics. They spend their mornings learning programming and coding and their afternoons are spent doing “normal” camp stuff.

Jeremie finds that he enjoys swimming more than he thought he would. There’s something about free-floating in the pool that makes him think of space and weightlessness. He knows it isn’t the same thing as no-gravity, but it’s the closest he’ll get to space for a while yet, so he makes do. When it gets dark they make campfires and tell scary stories. Jeremie doesn’t have the imagination for true horror stories, but he enjoys falling under the spell of some of the more talented kids.

He isn’t even sure how it happens.

One day it’s the same as ever, then Patrick joins them for lunch in the mess hall. The other boys laugh along with him, chat about movies and sports and music while Jeremie scribbles calculations absent mindedly on his napkin. After lunch they decide to play basketball instead of going to the lake to swim. Jeremie frowns, but goes along with it because it’s only one day.

The next day the others invite Patrick to come to the programming class with them. They chat more at lunch. They want to do martial arts. Patrick bumps his elbow against Jeremie’s and smiles at him. “Your friends are pretty cool,” he tells him as they walk down to the martial arts field.

“Yeah,” Jeremie says, rubbing his arm. “I guess.”

By the end of the week Jeremie isn’t all that surprised to find that the other boys have gravitated to Patrick. It doesn’t even bother him all that much, if he’s honest. What does hurt is how Patrick seems to just accept it as if nothing has changed. As if Jeremie isn’t heading down to the lake on his own, as if he doesn’t skip campfire time and spend his evenings in the cabin reading while it’s still quiet out. It’s enough to convince him that maybe it was Patrick’s plan all along.

. . … . .

His new school is larger than the primary he went to. It’s an interesting mix of kids, with the local town kids already knowing each other while the boarders are a mixture of new and returning. Jeremie is the youngest in his year, which he knew coming in. Between that and transferring in a year after most of his class started he’s more on the periphery of his classmates. It’s a position he’s become used to.

//

“Have you made any friends yet?” his father asks, Sunday night.

Jeremie shrugs, even though no one is around to see him. “A few acquaintances. It’s only been a couple weeks,” he says.

His father is quiet. “That’s right,” he says finally. “It feels longer.” There’s another long pause and Jeremie is suddenly hit with the strong desire to board the next train east. It’s a ridiculous feeling, he doesn’t want to go home. “Are you happy there, Jeremie?”

“Yes, Papa,” he replies. “The science classes are great. And there’s a robotics club after school.”

“I’m happy. We’re both happy you’re happy.”

“How is Maman?”

“She’s good, Jeremie. She is so proud of you.”

//

“You’re a quiet little guy, aren’t you?”

“I’m taller than you, Odd.”

The blonde scoffs. “Like that’s hard,” he replies.

“He’s right,” Ulrich adds. “Kiwi’ll probably end up taller than him.”

Odd elbows Ulrich in the ribs, but he’s laughing. Jeremie blinks at them. “I just meant, you kinda keep to yourself, don’t you?”

Jeremie shrugs. He looks up as Yumi drops into the seat next to him. “Stop tormenting Jeremie,” she says.

Odd splutters around his potatoes. “I’m _not_ tormenting Jeremie,” he protests.

“Little bit,” Ulrich says, holding up his thumb and index finger to indicate the size. Odd glowers. “You okay, Jer?”

“Huh?” he asks, thrown for a moment by the nickname. “Yeah, I’m good. I just like brussels sprouts.”

“In that case,” Ulrich says, and slides his tray over. “Help yourself.”

//

Jeremie trails his friends, watching the way they laugh and playfully shove each other on the way back to Kadic from the factory. Odd is loud as usual, voice carrying through the deserted trail as he teases Ulrich and Yumi. He dances away from Ulrich’s (probably) half-hearted lunge. Jeremie lets their voices wash over him.

Yumi turns and looks at him. “Come on, Jeremie!” she calls. “You should be celebrating with us!”

“Yeah, come on, Einstein,” Odd adds. He flicks Ulrich in the side of the head and ducks to the other side of Yumi. “Even you have to recognize fun when you see it!”

//

Sometimes he misses the days when Aelita was stuck in Lyoko. He’ll never tell her that because, well, because that’s not the type of thing you say to someone, is it? But it was so much easier to talk to her through the computer screen than it is to talk to her face-to-face. He finds he gets distracted by her eyelashes, or the wind playing with her hair, the way she’s gotten into the habit of speaking with her hands.

At the moment, she’s seated next to Odd in the courtyard, heads bent together as they look at something on Odd’s phone. She laughs, one of those bright and infectious ones that always bring a smile to his face. He sees a couple eyes shift, heads turning to look at her as well. _And why shouldn’t they_? he asks himself. She is bright and dazzling and he isn’t foolish enough to think he’s the only one who noticed. He was the first though, and that’s what makes him miss those long nights of endless conversation.

Her breath mists in the cold air and she looks up suddenly. She finds him in the crowd, her eyes sparkling. “Jeremie!” she calls, “Come look at this video of Kiwi!”

Jeremie zips his coat up, shoves his hands into his pockets, and crosses the frost-dusted courtyard. Odd gives him a lazy smile and wave as Aelita makes room on the bench for him. “Hey, Einstein,” he says.

“Morning,” he replies.

“Look,” Aelita instructs. She takes Odd’s phone from him and restarts the video. He tries to focus on whatever Kiwi is doing, but she lets out another one of those laughs. His eyes are drawn to her involuntarily, watching the joy on her face. “Isn’t it great?” she asks, eyes still focused on the video.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, it’s great.” Odd gives him a knowing look from over Aelita’s head and Jeremie feels his cheeks flame, hopes he can pass it off on the cold or being too warm in his coat and scarf. Odd doesn’t mention it and Aelita doesn’t look up, just leans into him as she giggles over the video.

_Yes_ , he thinks, _it was definitely easier when there was a computer screen between them_.


	5. Chapter 5

  1. _After Ulrich showed him how to get to the school roof he spent his sleepless nights up there mapping the stars_.



The thing about shutting down Lyoko, about finally defeating X.A.N.A., is that things don’t just go back to normal afterwards. Jeremie can’t remember what normal _is_ anymore. He tries, he really does, but his sleep schedule is ruined. Too many nights spent staring at coding and working out complex physics theories have left him, well, not drained exactly. He isn’t sure what. Itchy is the closest word he can think of. Unfulfilled. Bored.

He lies in bed, watching the numbers click over on his alarm clock, and realizes how much time is just _wasted_. If the past few years had taught him anything, it was that so much could be accomplished while the rest of the world slept.

He groans, rolls over and stares at his wall instead. His brain is going at full speed and he feels a nervous, twitchy energy in his body. There’s no rampant computer virus trying to take over the world to defeat, but maybe his physics homework could offer some type of distraction. He sits up, pulls on a sweater, and sits down at his desk.

The glow of the computer booting up is strangely soothing.

//

“Up late?” Ulrich asks.

Jeremie shrugs and drinks deeply from the coffee Yumi brought him. “No later than usual,” he replies.

Yumi frowns at him. “Pre-defeat usual or post-defeat usual?”

“Is there a difference?” Odd asks. He keeps his attention on the paper airplane he’s creating. “You know how Einstein is.”

“Hey!” Jeremie protests.

“You have a point,” Yumi agrees, disregarding Jeremie’s protestations. “It still isn’t healthy.”

“And how are _you_ sleeping?”

“My sleep schedule is not being discussed right now, Ulrich.” She highlights something in her notebook. “Jeremie, we all know how hard you worked. You’ve earned your rest.”

“Geeze, Yumers, you make it sound like he’s dying!”

“I am not-”

Jeremie turns away from the brewing argument. If they want to fight over his non-existent sleep issues…well, he isn’t going to get involved. Aelita is staring at him and he meets her eyes evenly, only feeling a twinge of guilt at the concern he sees residing there. “You know you can take a break, right?” she asks quietly.

“It was one sleepless night, Aelita,” he replies. He gives her a tired smile and the corner of her mouth twitches into a small smile. “Don’t pay them attention.”

“It’s hard not to when they’re being so loud,” she replies. He smiles for real at that and she reaches over, squeezing his hand. He can feel the tingles left behind from her cold skin after she lets go. “You can always talk to me, you know?”

“I know.” Odd’s paper airplane hits him in the side of the head and he groans. “Odd!”

“Look alive, Einstein!” Odd replies, laughing. “No daydreaming.”

Jeremie rolls his eyes. He picks up the paper airplane, refolds some of the lines on it and then sends it soaring smoothly back at Odd. “Aerodynamics,” he says at Odd’s surprised look. Odd grins brightly and bounces over to his side of the courtyard table, fresh paper in hand.

“Teach me your ways, oh masterful Einstein.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Jeremie says just as Ulrich mutters, “Stop acting like an idiot.”

Yumi frowns at him from around Odd’s back. “We aren’t done discussing this, Jeremie,” she warns.

. . … . .

Jeremie is stretched out on the cold bleachers, staring up at the light-polluted sky. The moon is a sliver just barely visible over the tops of the trees. He watches a plane pass by overhead, lights blinking. He shivers and adjusts his glasses.

“Hey, Jer.”

Jeremie startles, sliding off the bleacher and hitting the lower riser with a clang. He groans, sitting up and peering over the bench at Ulrich. The other boy is dressed in some kind of athletic wear and muddied sneakers.

“Did I startle you?” he asks. The light isn’t that great this far from the school, one of the reasons Jeremie chose this spot for late-night stargazing, but he’s pretty sure Ulrich’s grinning at him.

“No, not at all,” he replies drily. Ulrich is definitely grinning now and he reaches out a hand to help him up. Jeremie takes it, letting himself be pulled to his feet. “What are you doing?” He checks his phone quickly. “It’s almost midnight.”

“Is it?” he asks. He shrugs, rolling his shoulders. “Wanted to get a run in.” He looks around the deserted football field. “What are you doing out here?”

“Just stargazing,” Jeremie replies. He waits for laughter or teasing, but Ulrich just tilts his head and studies him. Jeremie frowns, crosses his arms. “What?”

“You like space?”

“It’s interesting,” Jeremie says. Ulrich considers him for a long moment. “I’m learning the constellations.”

Ulrich looks away finally, tilts his head back to study the sky. “Kind of hard to study anything down here,” he says. “The school lights are pretty bright.”

“They’ll go off soon,” Jeremie comments. He winces when Ulrich looks back at him, eyebrows raised. “Midnight,” he says. “They turn off the outer lights at midnight.” Ulrich’s eyebrows raise another centimeter or so, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Come on,” Ulrich says after a moment.

“I’m not ready to go in yet, there’s some meteor shower starting in an hour or so…”

“Yeah, I know,” Ulrich replies. “Come on,” he repeats, “there’s a better place to watch.”

//

“If we get caught…”

“We won’t get caught.”

“But _if_ we get caught…”

The lock clicks open and Ulrich puts his lock picks away before pushing the heavy metal door open. They step out of the stairwell and onto the flat rooftop of the sciences and mathematics building. Jeremie glances around curiously while Ulrich closes the door quietly behind them.

“Honestly, we snuck around for years fighting a killer computer virus and you’re worried about sneaking onto a roof.” Jeremie ignores him, walking off across the rooftop. Ulrich grabs his arm though. “Not too close to the edge or you might be seen. Then you would get caught.”

“See?” He crosses his arms over his chest and looks around again. He imagines the view would be pretty good, but it’s gotten darker. They’re definitely past midnight now, with only the entrance and courtyard lights burning dimly. “So, why the roof?”

“It’s better than the bleachers.” Jeremie turns, confused, and sees that Ulrich has sprawled out on his back. He points up at the sky. “Lay down, the half walls block some of the light and no one turns the lights on up here. Better view.”

Carefully, Jeremie lays down on the roof. He feels the rough grit and pebbles dig into his back and shoulders. Ulrich is right though. The stars are brighter, clearer in the dark blue sky above. “Cool,” he says. “Definitely better than the field.”

Ulrich snorts and thumps him in the shoulder.

. . … . .

It’s not that it becomes a habit, more a ritual, but it’s a comfort knowing the rooftop is just a lock pick away. Ulrich spends one night teaching him how to unlock the heavy roof door, twisting the pins this way and that, listening for the quiet pop as the tumblers fell into place. They don’t mention it after and Jeremie is glad. He isn’t sure what he’d say if Yumi or Odd or Aelita ask him about it.

It doesn’t take long for his nightly ritual to shift. He leaves the computer behind and instead takes to studying the stars he can see. He wonders if he’d be able to smuggle a decent telescope onto the roof so he could get a better view of the planets that occasionally pass over Kadic.

//

“Yo, Einstein, you with us?” Odd asks. He pokes Jeremie with the handle of his spoon. “Earth to Einstein, come in Einstein.”

Jeremie blinks, feeling sluggish. “Yes, sorry, I’m here.” He looks around the cafeteria table and feels his face warm under the stares of his friends. “What were you saying?”

“You, Ulrich, and me this Saturday night. There’s a new Deadborne game coming out that has our names all over it, yeah?”

“Oh, uh…”

“Don’t try to use Princess as an excuse, she and Yumi have some girls’ night plan, right?”

“That’s right,” Yumi agrees. She smiles at Aelita. “We’re seeing the new Marion Cotillard film.”

“It’s supposed to be really good,” Aelita agrees. “Emily said she saw it last week and enjoyed it immensely.”

“So, it’s blood, gore, and junk food for us,” Odd chirps.

Jeremie shakes his head and stirs the food on his tray absently. “I can’t. I have a robotics meeting.”

“I thought those were on Friday,” Aelita says, frowning.

Jeremie shrugs and adjusts his glasses from where they slipped down his nose. “Normally, yeah. But Monsieur Bisset has a staff meeting Friday so it was pushed to Saturday.”

“Well, you can just join us afterwards,” Odd says, shrugging. He frowns at Jeremie’s tray. “You going to eat the trifle?”

“Help yourself.”

“ _Awesome_.” Odd swipes the trifle and digs into it enthusiastically. Jeremie ignores Aelita’s stare and digs into his meal before Odd takes anymore of it.

//

The meeting ends early when Herve’s robot accidentally catches fire and they have to evacuate the meeting room. Jeremie is still coughing from the acrid smoke when he reaches Ulrich and Odd’s dorm. He pushes the door open and spies Ulrich and Odd stretched out on Ulrich’s bed, playing the newest video game. They both jump when he closes the door loudly and Odd falls off the bed with a thump. Kiwi immediately pads over to investigate whether his owner is alright.

“Hey, Jer.”

“Einstein!” Odd exclaims. “Down, Kiwi, down!” Odd bats ineffectively at Kiwi’s nose. “Didn’t expect you until later!”

“Herve set the lab on fire again so we got out early.”

“Awesome,” Ulrich says. He pauses the game and sits up. “We’ll have plenty of time for a real game then.”

“Don’t hover, Einstein, come on in. Kiwi, _down_. Geeze.”

Jeremie drops his robotics bag by the door and sprawls out on the floor in front of the small TV screen. Kiwi gives up on Odd and wanders over to Jeremie instead. “What is this game?” Jeremie asks. He scratches Kiwi behind the ears automatically and the dog huffs a breath, settling down next to him.

“You’re gonna love it, Einstein!”

//

He spends three hours in Ulrich and Odd’s room, until they start yawning in earnest and Kiwi is upside down on Odd’s bed snoring loudly. The game is better than he expected, and he enjoys that they actually need to use strategy and it isn’t just point-and-shoot. It’s a welcome change from Odd’s usual picks and he isn’t surprised when he learns Ulrich picked it out.

The downside to game night is that he feels wired. He tries going back to his room, drops his robotics bag off at his desk and scrolls across the internet for another hour, but nothing keeps his attention. He debates on texting Yumi or Aelita, but he knows Girls’ Night is _sacred_ , so he lets his phone close without dialing either of them.

He isn’t all that surprised to find that he makes his way to the science and math building. Jim still hasn’t repaired the back stairwell door, and he takes the steps up to the top of the building. He’s gotten better at picking locks in the year since Ulrich first showed him the rooftop hideaway and it takes him less than five minutes to get the door open.

It’s a full moon tonight, the stars obscured by the bright orb in the sky. He grabs the blanket he’s stowed in a crate by the door and crosses the roof to his favorite spot. He spreads the blanket out and lays down, stares up at the stars and moon. It’s peaceful and quiet, only the sound of insects and night birds keeping him company. Occasionally he hears a car pass.

His eyes are drawn to the constellation Cygnus, the swan. It’s his mother’s favorite constellation and the first one she taught him when he was a child. “Let me guess, _Swan Lake_?” he’d asked after one of the times she’d pointed it out to him.

She had laughed at him. “No, _mon petit étoile,_ ” she replied. “Cygnus has many origins, not all of them nice.” She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into her lap as they sat in the field and stared up at the night sky. “The thing to remember though is that Cygnus is saved by being turned into a swan and immortalized in the sky.”

Her fingers traced out the cross of stars above them. “See the way the wings open? Cygnus isn’t static, he’s always moving, always flying. You can see the way he soars.”

Now, Jeremie finds himself tracing those same stars with his eyes. The way the wings fan out from the body. He’s never understood his mother’s love of swans, but he does find comfort staring at the familiar constellation. He can almost smell the burnt-sugar scent of the distant sugar beet factories or the earthy smell of the wheat fields being harvested.

Without trying, Jeremie drifts off, lulled by the memory of late summer fields and the glow of far-away stars.

. . … . .

“Jeremie?”

There’s the soft crunch of gravel under sneakers. Jeremie stares up at the summer stars above, eyes traveling over the lines of ursa minor. The footsteps stop and he sees a flash of bright yellow sneakers out of the corner of his eye. A moment later Aelita folds herself down onto the blanket he’s spread out over the rooftop.

“How’d you find me?” he asks.

“Ulrich,” she replies. She’s wearing an oversized pink sweatshirt and her hair is sleep-mussed. She looks around before laying back next to him. He can feel the warmth of her shoulder pressing against his. “You want to talk?”

“Not much to say,” he replies. He moves on to draco and then the stars making up lyra.

“What are you looking at?”

“Lyra,” he replies. He extends his hand, pointing out each of the main stars in the constellation. “The brightest star is vega, there.” He hesitates. “In Greek mythology, lyra is the lyre of Orpheus. He was renowned for his music, and even charmed Hades when he went to the Underworld to rescue Eurydice, his wife.”

Aelita shifts next to him. “That sounds like a good story,” she says, voice soft. 

“That part is,” he agrees. “Hades was charmed, but not a pushover. He told them they could leave, but Orpheus wasn’t allowed to look back at Eurydice until they were free from the Underworld.” He lets his arm fall back to the rooftop and Aelita’s hand finds his.

“Orpheus let doubt come in and looked back when they were almost at the end of the journey,” he continues. “Eurydice was sentenced to live in the Underworld forever as a result and Orpheus spent the rest of his days wandering around and strumming his lyre. In the end Orpheus’s bones were buried by the muses and his lyre placed in the sky by Zeus.” He takes a breath. “I always thought it was a silly story,” he comments. “My mother loved Greek mythology, who knows why? But if you love someone, why would you doubt them, especially at the end of everything?”

Aelita shifts next to him, propping herself up on an elbow to stare down at him. “Jeremie…”

“I know this is something you need to do.” He looks up at her and gives her a small smile. “I’m not going to fight with you. It’s okay.”

A breeze picks up, bringing the smell of the fresh cut grass from earlier, and blowing strands of hair into her face. She brushes them back automatically and studies him. “Do you doubt me?” she asks.

“No,” he replies immediately, seriously. She gives him one of those dazzling smiles of hers and he feels his breath catch. “I’ve never doubted you.”

“It’s just a story,” she tells him, “you don’t even like mythology – it’s too abstract, remember?” She leans in, presses her lips to his forehead. “We’ll be okay.” Her voice trembles and he reaches up, brushes his fingers over her cheek, studies her face.

“I know,” he replies. “We always have been.” She’s still smiling when he pulls her in for a proper kiss.


	6. Memory

  1. _His favorite memory is of a crisp autumn morning and the smell of baking bread_.



Jeremie’s neck aches.

It’s the first thing that wakes him, stiff with a sharp, stabbing pain. He groans quietly as his eyes flutter open. He’d fallen asleep on the super computer keyboard, cheek pressed into the keys. He sits up, rubs at the indentations, and looks around the factory.

They had spent Saturday night running drills on Lyoko, trying to uncover the way to permanently shut down X.A.N.A. Jeremie isn’t sure when they had all eventually passed out in the supercomputer room, though he remembers talking with Yumi long after the other three had drifted off.

He shivers and pulls his sweater sleeves down over his fingers before rubbing at his neck. There’s some pale yellow light shining through the dirty glass of the factory windows. It catches on Aelita, where she’s curled up in an oversized sweater between Yumi and Ulrich. Odd is sitting up pad of paper resting against his bent knees, and pencil scratching against it.

“Morning,” Odd says. He glances up briefly with a cheerful smile before he returns his attention to the paper in front of him.

“Morning,” Jeremie yawns.

He stretches, wincing as stiff muscles pull, and gets up. Odd doesn’t react as he picks his way across the concrete floor to stand next to him. The sketch on the paper is better than he expected, and he wonders if he’s ever actually seen Odd’s work. Not just his classroom doodles, but his more serious things. Odd’s finished sketching out the countenances of their friends and is working on the play of weak sunlight on his subjects.

“It’s good,” Jeremie says. It feels inadequate, ridiculous even, to say. Odd glances up at him, smile a little more genuine.

“Thanks, Einstein.” His pencil moves over Ulrich’s still form, darkening the strands of his hair and highlighting the light on one of his hands. “Not that I don’t like an audience, but you’re kinda hovering.”

“Sorry,” Jeremie replies. He steps aside and then finds a relatively clean spot to sit down. He amuses himself making shadow puppets on the ground while Odd finishes his sketch.

“Few more minutes and we can wake the sleeping beauties,” Odd says, sensing his thoughts. He looks up, meeting Jeremie’s eyes with his normal mischievous grin. “I’m starving.”

“Of course,” Jeremie replies drily. But, he finds that he’s smiling just the same.

//

The factory hadn’t been warm, exactly, but it was noticeably warmer than the outside air. Yumi shivers and huddles in her hoodie. “I’m glad I wore boots last night,” she says.

“It’s definitely no longer summer,” Ulrich agrees. “You okay, Ai?”

“Yup!” Aelita’s pulled a knit hat from one of her pockets and the yarn pompom on top bobbles as she nods her head vigorously.

“Hurry up,” Odd coaxes. He checks his phone for the umpteenth time. “ _Nicolette’s_ will be opening soon and I want to beat the rush!”

“Do you ever think with anything other than your stomach?” Jeremie asks.

Odd sticks his tongue out, walking backwards down the path to town. “’Course I do,” he says. He gestures with the hand not clutching his sketchbook. “But I’m hungry _now_.”

“You’re always hungry,” Ulrich counters. “Duck,” he adds. Odd ducks, avoiding a low hanging branch, half dead and hanging from one of the trees. Yumi gives it a tug, pulling it free and tossing it to the side of the path.

Jeremie tilts his head back, feeling the muscles in his neck protest. He inhales the crisp air, listens to the leaves crunch beneath his own boots. It reminds him of early mornings in Reims, wandering the city limits where stone ended and the patchwork of green-and-gold began. The grapes hanging heavy on the vines, so close to harvest time.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Aelita says. She bumps his arm lightly with hers and smiles brightly at him. “You seem,” she pauses, searches for the right word, “peaceful.”

“I like autumn,” he replies, shrugging.

“It is a pretty time of year,” she agrees. She loops her arm through his and he sees the pompom wobble out of the corner of his eye. “Plus, it’s perfectly acceptable to have hot chocolate with breakfast.”

He laughs, savors the brief warmth of her pressed against his side, before she lets go and skips ahead, calling out to Odd.

//

_Nicolette’s_ is just opening when they arrive at the café. The air is sweet with the smell of baking dough and cooked sugar. Odd bounces into the shop, bells jangling with the force of the door opening. “Nicolette, my love, do I smell pan au chocolat?”

“Odd, don’t be an idiot,” Jeremie mutters.

The middle aged woman behind the counter looks up, laughing. She wipes flour-coated hands on her apron as they file in. “Good morning,” she greets. “Your nose is as keen as ever, Odd. The first batch is nearly finished.”

“ _Yes_!” Odd does a fist pump and abbreviated happy dance in the shop. “I’ll take half a dozen. For myself.”

Ulrich shakes his head, grabs Odd by the arm and pulls him over to the old table in the front of the café overlooking the large picture window facing the street. They crowd into the table and Nicolette approaches them, still smiling. “You’re all up early for a Sunday.”

“Have to seize the day,” Odd replies.

“Of course,” she agrees. She tucks graying brown hair behind an ear. “Would you like anything to drink with your half a dozen pan au chocolats?”

“Hot chocolate, of course.”

“Hot chocolate for me as well,” Aelita chirps. She leans around Yumi and smiles brightly at the woman. “And a beignet.”

The café is warm and Aelita tugs her hat off, pink hair askew, as they place their orders. Nicolette disappears into the back of the café and Ulrich settles back into his chair. “I hate to say it,” he says, “but I think I’m getting too old for sleeping on factory floors.”

“Aw, too delicate to rough it?” Odd teases.

Ulrich rolls his eyes and Yumi nods, rolling her shoulders. “I’m definitely stiff,” she agrees.

Nicolette reappears with their drinks, setting steaming cups of hot chocolate in front of Odd and Aelita, a pot of black tea between Ulrich and Yumi, and a strong coffee in front of Jeremie. “I’ll be back with your meals,” she tells them.

“Thank you,” Jeremie says graciously.

“I’ve been asked to DJ for Tania’s birthday in a couple weeks,” Aelita announces once it’s just them again.

“That’s great, Ai,” Ulrich says.

“Way to go, Princess!”

“I’ll take any song suggestions you have,” she says. She sips from her hot chocolate, humming around the mouthful. “I don’t know how I survived so long _without_ hot chocolate.”

//

Jeremie finds himself relaxing, laughing along with the others at Odd’s latest outlandish story. It’s one he hasn’t heard before, involving one of his sisters, powdered food coloring, and a toothbrush. “I honestly didn’t remember we were having family photos that day,” Odd protests. He takes a bite out of his third pastry, grinning. “You could hear Adele’s screams from the street.”

“That’s vile,” Yumi says, but she’s smiling. “I might have to do it with Hiroki.”

“Kid’ll probably think it’s cool,” Ulrich comments.

“Didn’t she notice the food coloring beforehand?” Aelita asks.

“Powdered food coloring can be sprinkled on,” Jeremie states. He slathers more butter on his baguette. “It doesn’t activate until water is introduced.”

“How green are we talking?” Ulrich asks.

“Wicked Witch of the West green,” Odd replies. “She chased me halfway through the neighborhood,” he adds.

Jeremie shakes his head, picking at his bread. “I think you deserved it,” Yumi says. She’s still grinning though and she refills her cup with more tea. “Green teeth.”

“How long did it end up lasting?” Jeremie asks.

“On her teeth? Not too long. She just needed to brush them again. But her mouth? Two days.” Odd gestures at his face. “Lips, tongue, corners of her mouth where she drooled…” He snorts, laughing as he remembers.

Jeremie shakes his head, smiling. “I’m sure it was a sight.”

“Oh, I have the pictures on my laptop. I’ll show you when we get back. I called her Elphaba the rest of the summer.” Odd takes a sip out of Ulrich’s cup, ignoring his roommate’s narrowed-eye look. He clears his throat. “She dyed my wardrobe black in retaliation,” he adds. “I had to get all new clothes.”

“What’s wrong with black?” Yumi questions.

“Not everyone can look as sophisticated as you do in it,” Aelita says. She licks the tip of her finger, running it around the edge of her plate to pick up the remnants of powdered sugar. Yumi gives her a suspicious, disgruntled look.

//

Yumi still looks perturbed on the way back to Kadic and Ulrich walks alongside her, chatting quietly. Eventually she lets out a quiet laugh and Ulrich is smiling. Odd rolls his eyes and snatches Aelita’s hat from her head. They dart around the sidewalk, Aelita trying to get her hat back and Odd managing to stay a step ahead of her.

Jeremie watches them, amused, and when Odd dances a little too close, reaches out and grabs the hat back.

“Et tu, Einstein?”

“Yes,” Jeremie replies, straight-faced. Odd sticks his tongue out and settles into a normal walk next to him. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” Aelita replies. She leans in, kissing his cheek, and he feels his face heat. She stretches her arms out, twirling in the fallen leaves, hat clutched in one hand. Ulrich watches her, bemused. “We should do something,” she says.

“Like what?” Yumi asks.

“I don’t know,” Aelita replies. “It’s barely nine o’clock and it’s a beautiful day.” She looks at them, green eyes bright. “It’s a waste to stay locked up inside all day. Let’s do _something_.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jeremie finds himself agreeing. He feels three sets of eyes on him and looks over at Odd, Ulrich, and Yumi. “What?” he asks. He pushes his glasses up his nose and shrugs. “Aelita’s right.”

Ulrich shrugs. “We thought you’d want to run more drills.”

Jeremie hesitates, remembers how close they had gotten last night. If they went to Sector Five again… But he still tastes the rich flavor of butter, still has the aroma of fresh baguette and burned sugar in his nose. He still feels the warmth in his cheeks from smiling too much and the brush of Aelita’s lips on his skin. He shrugs, slips his hands into his pockets.

“I think we’ve earned a day off,” he says finally. “Don’t you?”


	7. Wonder

  1. _Sometimes he wonders what would have happened if they_ had _let Sissi in on the secret_.



The blow-out over Sissi Delmas is unexpected. Jeremie had seen Ulrich and Sissi around campus previously, he knew they were popular and popular people tended to hang out together. He just hadn’t expected the push-back to be so immediate. Judging by Yumi’s stricken face after Ulrich had stormed off, Jeremie’s pretty sure he wasn’t the only one taken by surprise.

“He’ll come around,” Jeremie tells her.

“Are they actually dating?” Yumi asks Odd. Odd shrugs and takes a bite of the muffin he pulls out of his bag.

“How should I know? We’re just roommates.” He rolls his eyes and looks up at them both. “Look, it’s Ulrich. He’ll be fine. I’ll talk to him.” He picks up his bag and stands, stretching. “Time for class, I’ll catch you both later on.”

“We all agreed,” Jeremie says once Odd’s departed.

“I know,” Yumi replies. She tucks her hair behind her ears. “I know that,” she repeats. “And it’s _Sissi_ , but maybe…?”

“If she betrayed us once we can’t trust her not to do so again,” he states. “Ulrich will realize we’re right when he stops to think about it.” He catches her expression and sighs. “It’ll be okay, Yumi.”

//

If he’s honest, Jeremie wasn’t sure Ulrich _would_ show up the next time he sent out the SOS message. But he does, arriving at the factory minutes before Yumi. It’s been three days since they’d suggested Ulrich distance himself from Sissi and he’s seen him maybe three times since then, not including the classes they shared. From his conversations with Yumi she’d had a similar experience.

So, he’s surprised when Ulrich shows up at his room after the Return. He opens the door and lets Ulrich in, then stands there not sure what exactly to say.

“Sissi is fine,” Ulrich says.

“Do you trust her?” Jeremie asks curiously. “Honestly, do you trust her? She didn’t even last a full 24 hours before she told Delmas and Jim about the factory.”

Ulrich frowns and paces the room. Jeremie sits down in his computer chair and watches the other boy. “What would you do if you were attacked?”

Jeremie picks up one of his pens and fiddles with it. “I would want to put a stop to it,” he says. “I’d keep my word.”

Ulrich sighs, scrubs a hand over his face and leans against the closed door. “It’s not fair to her.”

“It won’t be for forever,” Jeremie says. He gives Ulrich his best pleading look. “Just until we’ve gotten Aelita out and shut down Lyoko. It should only be a few weeks, maybe a month.”

Ulrich gives a faint smile and shakes his head. “That’s what Odd said.”

“Look, can you say that you can see Sissi Delmas on Lyoko fighting monsters?” Jeremie asks. “If you really care about her, this is the best way to keep her safe and out of trouble.”

Ulrich meets his gaze steadily.

“It’ll take longer to do this without you.”

“One month?”

“At the most,” Jeremie agrees.

Ulrich sighs, pushes off from the door, and sits down on the end of Jeremie’s bed. “Alright, Jer,” he says. Jeremie blinks at the nickname, still not used to it. “I’m in.”

. . … . .

Those early days don’t allow much time for sleeping. When he does manage to doze off, usually slumped over in his computer chair after talking with Aelita for hours, he wakes from nightmares of someone finding the factory. Of Sissi leading Jim and her father to the door and the Return not working. He dreams of losing Aelita forever.

When a month comes and goes without as much progress as he’d hoped for the materialization program and X.A.N.A.’s attacks picking up speed, he catches Ulrich watching him more and more.

“We could bring in Sissi,” Ulrich suggests after another near-miss.

“No,” Jeremie replies. He remembers the hopeless feeling of Delmas and Jim calling the authorities, of the supercomputer being dismantled. He can picture Sissi’s face as she watches the destruction. “I just need more time.”

“It’s been a month, Einstein,” Odd says. “How close are we?”

“We’re getting there,” Jeremie replies. He rubs at his temples and stares at the other three. Ulrich’s gaze is even and unreadable. “We’ve got this.”

Ulrich shakes his head and exits the supercomputer room. “We’re wasting time,” he calls over his shoulder. “If there were more of us we could shut down the attacks faster.”

“Or be discovered easier!” Jeremie yells back.

. . … . .

“There’s Sissi,” Odd says hesitantly.

“No,” Ulrich and Yumi reply immediately.

Jeremie pauses and looks at the other blonde. He hadn’t thought of it, and probably wouldn’t have if Odd hadn’t suggested it first. The truth is that Sissi would probably be a good choice of a cover in order to get around Jim nosing around. “You’re right,” he says finally. “We could use this.”

“I can’t believe you’re suggesting this,” Ulrich replies, shaking his head. “You were the biggest supporter of ditching Sissi and now you want me to use her?”

“Sometimes in war you have to get your hands dirty.”

“Do you hear yourself?” Ulrich demands.

“Ulrich has a point,” Yumi states.

“And so does Einstein,” Odd replies. He taps his foot on the bleachers.

“This is insane,” Ulrich snaps.

“Look, we need a distraction and you were the genius who decided to get detention,” Jeremie retorts.

He isn’t proud of it, he’d like to think he’s a decent person who doesn’t take advantage of others. But it’s not like Sissi has stopped following Ulrich around like a dejected puppy in the months since they found Lyoko. And, well, if she’s going to make it easy…why not take advantage of it?

“I didn’t decide-”

“Sissi likes you and it isn’t a secret. Play it up some in order to get out of detention tonight.”

“This is wrong,” Yumi repeats. She looks at Ulrich. “You aren’t seriously considering this, are you?”

“Sissi doesn’t oversee detention, that’s Jim. And I am _not_ cozying up to Jim.”

“We all know Sissi will complain to Delmas and Delmas will have Jim let you off for good behavior. Come on, we need all of us for the test tonight.”

Ulrich glares. “Fine,” he agrees. “But just this one time.”

“Of course,” Jeremie agrees, relieved. Jeremie knows he’s lying even as he agrees. Judging by Ulrich’s stormy expression he does too, but neither of them call him on it. Jeremie swallows and pulls his coat tighter around him. “We can even do a Return so she doesn’t remember.”

“Because _that_ makes this better,” Ulrich replies.

. . … . .

He comes to accept that he and Ulrich will never agree on including Sissi or not. Sissi is still a bully, makes Aelita’s life hell when she’s first materialized. He still remembers her banging on his doors, tears in her eyes, after one of Sissi’s snide comments. When he sees Ulrich speaking with her between classes later that day, he doesn’t understand how he can still be on friendly terms with her.

It’s the same behavior she’s exhibited over the past year, with nothing changing. Even if she would be useful, and he’ll admit that having the headmaster’s daughter on their side _would_ be useful, she wouldn’t fit with the group.

//

“It would figure that Odd Della Robbia would have a cousin as weird as he is.”

Jeremie pauses mid-reach for a programming textbook, caught off guard by the voices. Usually the library has cleared out in anticipation of supper and he hadn’t been expecting anyone else to be in the stacks.

“What do you mean?” another voice asks.

“Aelita, haven’t you seen her? The girl looks like she just got off the shuttle from planet loony.”

“The one with the pink hair, right?”

“That’s the one.”

He recognizes the voices now. Marie-Therese Renoit and Lydia Hawthorne, two girls in his year that can usually be seen cozying up to Sissi. He frowns and lets his hand drop, peering through the gaps in the books to see them on the other side of the bookcase.

“She’s not that bad, Marie,” Lydia says. “A bit simple, maybe.”

“The girl is a nutcase,” Marie-Therese laughs. “She didn’t know how to use shampoo, remember? And today she was out there dancing around in the rain like a toddler.”

“Talking about Aelita Stones, are we?” Sissi’s voice rings out.

Jeremie sees her approach the other two girls and grits his teeth.

“Of course, who else?” Marie-Therese asks. “My bet is she’s escaped from some nut house, not Norway or wherever.”

“You know,” Sissi drawls, “it’s not nice to talk about others behind their backs.”

“Please, weren’t you just making fun of her for not knowing about foundation this morning?” Lydia asks.

“That’s the difference,” Sissi states. “If I don’t like someone I tell them to their face, I don’t sneak around whispering behind their backs like a couple of common nitwits. It’s in especially poor taste to do so when your own records don’t speak too highly of yourselves.”

“What are you talking about?” Lydia questions, voice suspicious.

“Whatever, you don’t know anything,” Marie-Therese snaps. She pushes past the other girl and Sissi steps out of her way, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“Oh, please, like it’s any secret that you were caught on your knees with Luca Millefeuille, Marie-Therese. Nearly expelled for that incident, weren’t you? Daddy made a big donation to the school board to keep you here. Poor Luca’s parents couldn’t make the same donation though, could they?”

“You’re a piece of work, Delmas.”

“Yes, but everyone knows that already. How about you, do they know about you? Or are you just as two-faced with them?”

“What do you want?” Lydia asks.

“You keep your mouths shut about Aelita Stones,” she says firmly.

“Why do you even care about the little twerp?”

“Doesn’t matter, does it? Remember, I have the headmaster’s ear. I’d hate to have to report another _incident_.”

“Go to hell,” Marie-Therese growls.

Jeremie waits as the two girls storm out of the stacks. Once they’re gone he rounds the bookcase and sees Sissi casually leaning against the opposite one, filing her nails. She doesn’t look surprised to see him, just lifts an eyebrow curiously.

“Why do you care about Aelita?” he asks finally. “You’ve made her life a living hell.”

Sissi lifts a shoulder, looking bored. “I don’t. I just hate people who talk behind others’ backs.” She pushes off of the bookcase.

“If you’re doing this because of Ulrich-”

“Believe it or not, not everything I do revolves around Ulrich Stern.” She brushes past him on her way out. “You should tell your girlfriend to cool it, it’s not just those two talking.”

. . … . .

Jeremie never comes to like Sissi.

He tolerates her, and he even finds some of the things she says amusing, but he can’t say he likes her as a person. He doesn’t understand why Aelita starts hanging out with her more, particularly once Yumi leaves. If she wants a female friend there are plenty of other options than Sissi Delmas.

She isn’t terrible though, and she can hold her own against Odd. It makes him wonder what would’ve happened if things had been different, if she hadn’t been the first to be attacked. He doesn’t think he would’ve survived the love quadrangle that would’ve formed eventually, but he would’ve appreciated someone who could shut Odd down.

He doesn’t mention it to Ulrich, the resentment is still there even years later. Jeremie doesn’t understand it, but he thinks he maybe gets it. He looks around the hotel room, at the motley crew assembled after graduation.

Ulrich and Odd are arguing over where to go for dinner. It involves exaggerated hand gestures and facial expressions on Odd’s part and deadpan sarcasm from Ulrich’s side. Aelita is recording it on her phone, laughing at the faces Odd pulls.

“Just bribe him with sex to get your way,” Sissi calls over. She and Yumi have been seated at the small table making small talk over Paris and life after Kadic.

Yumi looks surprised before she grins. “Who are you talking to?” she asks.

“Does it matter?” Sissi replies, shrugging. “They’ll get what they want and we’ll get peace and quiet.”

Jeremie shakes his head, chuckling at the startled looks on Ulrich and Odd’s faces. He’s kind of glad Aelita’s recording it. “Just wait until _we’re_ not here,” Jeremie says. “I don’t need to walk in on you two _again_.”

“You never mentioned that,” Aelita says, turning to look over her shoulder at him.

“Again?” Sissi asks, eyebrow raised. “Oh, do tell.”

“Hey now!” Odd protests. He bounds over, arm slung tightly over Jeremie’s shoulders. “We don’t want to force Jeremie to relive anything he doesn’t want to. Gotta keep our Einstein happy.”

“Let’s just go with Odd’s choice,” Ulrich says. “Pizza sounds easy.” He looks over at Yumi and gives her a smile. “It’ll be tradition.”

“Alright, food time,” Yumi announces. “I’d like to eat before catching the train back. You can interrogate Jeremie over pizza.”

He isn’t sure how he ends up walking next to Ulrich when they leave the hotel, trailing a few paces behind the others. Ulrich’s face is still faintly flushed and he’s watching the others in front of them. Jeremie clears his throat and waits until he catches Ulrich looking in his direction before speaking.

“I still stand by what I said back then,” he says. “Sissi couldn’t be trusted.” Jeremie adjusts his glasses, feels Ulrich still staring at him. He doesn’t return the look, focused on where Sissi is pestering Odd while Yumi and Aelita laugh at their antics.

“I was never upset at not having her on Lyoko,” Ulrich says finally.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Jeremie replies. “I didn’t get it then, but I wouldn’t like it if someone told me not to speak to you all. Even Odd.” He catches Ulrich’s smile. “For what it’s worth we couldn’t have done some of it without her assistance.”

“We could’ve,” Ulrich replies. His answer is quick and easy, hardly any thought behind it. Jeremie does look at him then but Ulrich doesn’t elaborate. “Why now?”

“Everything changes tomorrow,” Jeremie replies. He slips his hands in his pockets as they cross the street to the pizzeria. “And anyway, she isn’t that bad when she’s acting human.”

Ulrich laughs hard enough for the others to turn around from where they’ve gathered by the door. Yumi looks started, glancing between Jeremie and Ulrich. Odd has a smile on his face, eyebrows raised as he studies Ulrich. Sissi’s smiling as well, but it’s a smaller more genuine one that Jeremie isn’t as familiar with. Aelita looks at them quizzically as they approach.

“She has her moments,” Ulrich agrees.

They enter the restaurant and take their seats. Sitting around the table, watching the way the antics, Jeremie can’t help but notice how Sissi _does_ fit. He doesn’t like her, really. And he doesn’t necessarily trust her to be anything but what she is. But he finds that he is smiling at her snide comments and the friendly barbs she and Odd toss back and forth. He glances at Yumi and sees that she’s even smiling and shaking her head occasionally.

It’s enough to make him wonder if things would’ve changed if they’d included her earlier.


	8. Pity

  1. _He wasn’t_ ashamed _of being poorer than his friends; he just didn’t want any pity (he told himself)._



“Where do you come from?” Yumi asks.

“Hm? France,” Jeremie replies.

Yumi rolls her eyes and adds another piece of rubbish to the bag she’s dragging around with her. She had taken it upon herself to clear some of the factory so no one ended up with tetanus and Jeremie was too tired to argue with her on it.

“I _know_ that,” she replies. “I meant where _in_ France?”

“Oh. Reims, it’s north east of here.” He looks over at her. “Why?”

Yumi shrugs. “I don’t know much about France still,” she replies. “We’ve only been here and Paris. Is it a big city? What do your parents do?”

Jeremie returns his attention to the super computer. “It’s decent-sized. My mom tutors and my dad…” Yumi looks over, waits patiently. “My dad is kind of a handyman,” he says finally. “I guess that’s what you’d call it.”

Yumi studies him, nods slowly. “What’s Reims like?”

“It’s nice, lot of fields and champagne surrounding it. It gets cold there in the winter, colder than here.”

“Any brothers and sisters?”

“No, only child,” he answers. “Why are you asking all these questions?”

Yumi shrugs again, pausing in her cleaning to gesture around the factory. “Well, looks like we’ll be working together and there’s nothing else to really talk about. I thought we’d get to know each other, if that’s okay?”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s…that’s fine,” Jeremie replies. He looks over at her. “Uh…any siblings?”

Yumi smiles at him. “Oh yeah, annoying little twerp of a brother,” she answers.

. . … . .

It’s not that he’s ashamed of how much money his parents have (or don’t have as the case may be). He always had decent clothes, a warm bed, and food in his stomach. It was the little things that he was missing, or the fact that his dad had to pick up an extra shift here, an extra job there. He got to play the new video games when he went over to Patrick’s, and he also got to wear the clothes Patrick outgrew without destroying.

His mother had an old, battered upright piano in the corner of the front room. The keys were chipped, the wood scratched, but the tones were still deep and vibrant. She taught lessons to the neighborhood children for extra money. Jeremie remembers sitting at the kitchen table doing his homework and listening to a child plunking uncoordinatedly at the keys. Somehow it still sounded alright.

. . … . .

“Einstein, come on. It’s dying.”

“Shut-up, Odd, it’s fine.” Jeremie moves the mouse experimentally but the screen is still frozen. “It’s just thinking.”

“You’re smarter than this,” Odd protests. “It’s one step away from the blue screen of death.”

“Odd’s right,” Ulrich adds. He leans over Jeremie’s other shoulder and studies the frozen laptop. “It’s time for a new one.”

“It’s fine.”

“Come on, Jer. What are you waiting for? It to die in the middle of your program?”

Jeremie frowns at the computer screen, ignoring the two boys hanging over the back of his computer chair. He taps one of the keys and sees the cursor spin.

“Don’t you have a birthday coming up?” Odd asks. “Just ask your folks to send you a new one. It’s what I did when Ulrich spilled soda on mine last month.”

“ _I_ spilled soda?”

“You threw the ball at my head, ergo you spilled soda.” Odd bounces away from the chair and flops onto Jeremie’s made-up bed. “Just pick out a new super-technical one and ask for it as an early birthday present.”

Jeremie opens his mouth to protest again when suddenly the circle disappears and the computer resumes running. “See, I told you it was just thinking,” Jeremie replies. He clicks open the program he’d wanted to show them.

“You’re just prolonging it,” Ulrich says. “So, what’s the new program?”

//

Jeremie frowns at the wrapped box sitting on his desk.

He sets his bag down carefully by the door and approaches his desk as though the box is liable to explode. He’s friends with Odd, so it isn’t out of the realm of possibilities. The box is wrapped in garishly bright green wrapping paper with a crooked white bow on top.

Carefully he pulls the bow off and eases the tape loose. When he’s finally got it unwrapped he sees that it’s a new laptop. He frowns at it, confused. It’s the newest model and would have cost a small fortune. There’s no card on or around the box, but he has a suspicion who could be responsible.

He grabs the box and crosses his room, pulls open his door to go confront the two boys down the hall.

“ _HAPPY BIRTHDAY!_ ”

Jeremie jumps in surprise, nearly dropping the new laptop. Ulrich, Odd, and Yumi are standing in the hallway. Yumi’s holding a tart, Odd a bouquet of balloons, and Ulrich a camera pointed at him and recording the whole embarrassing ordeal. He blinks at them and Yumi gives him a bright smile.

“Do you like it?” she asks.

“We weren’t sure which to get you,” Odd adds. “There’s a lotta options.”

“We went with speed and memory, but you can exchange it if you need something else,” Ulrich says.

Jeremie blinks at them all again. He shifts the box and feels his face heat. “Uh, yeah, it’s great,” he says. “How? Why?”

“You needed a new laptop, Jer,” Ulrich replies. “It was nothing.”

“We all chipped in some,” Yumi adds. “It was better getting you something you need.”

“So, gonna invite us in?” Odd asks. “Yumi made a tart and I’m starving!”

. . … . .

He’s ten when he discovers Kadic and their robotics program. It’s everything he could have hoped for in a school – except it’s several hours by train from home and costs a small fortune to attend. He’s ten though, and he’s foolish enough to think it’s something he can have. He brings the flyer home from school and grins as he hands it to his mother.

“What’s this?”

“A school, Maman. They have _robots_.” He bounces on his toes, grinning at her. “I could go there for college!”

His mother looks over the flyer, finger slowly tracing each word. “You would want to leave us?” she asks eventually. “Paris is a long way.”

“Only a few hours by train, I looked it up,” he replies proudly. “Do you think they’d want me?”

“I don’t see why not,” she replies, smiling at him. “You’re brilliant, _mon petit chou_. Any school would want you.” She looks back at the flyer. “We’ll tell your father tonight.”

//

His father has that tired smile he’s worn for the last year on when he gets home. The lines in his face deepen as he looks over the flyer, but eventually he nods. He looks at Jeremie, hands resting on his shoulders as he crouches down in front of him. “It’s a vigorous school, Jeremie,” he says. “You will need to study hard to get in.”

“I’m the best in my class!” he announces.

His father smiles, adjusts Jeremie’s glasses. “Then we have nothing to worry about, eh?” he asks.

The lines in his father’s face stay with him though, and after his mother has tucked him into bed he creeps back to the front room to listen to his parents talk. They’re in the small kitchen, his father washing up while his mother sips tea.

“We just can’t afford it, Jeanne. Not now.”

“No,” his mother agrees. “But he wants to go so badly, Michel, how can we say no?” Jeremie hears the soft clunk as she sets her cup down on the table. “And anyway, in a year or two it may be better.”

“And if it’s not? Two years of getting his hopes up for nothing?”

“We just have to hope it works out. All the best things do,” his mother replies.

The talk turns to farming and grapes and Jeremie loses interest. He creeps back to his room, stares at the flyer for the school hanging off his corkboard. If his parents can’t afford to send him, he’ll just have to earn his way there. He’s top of his class after all.

. . … . .

Aelita bounces over to him as soon as he exits the dorms. “Odd’s invited us to visit this summer!” she exclaims, grinning. “Isn’t that amazing?”

“Uh…” Jeremie replies. She loops her arm through his, tugging him toward the others.

“Yumi’s going back to Japan, but Ulrich might be able to make it. It’ll be so much fun!”

“Hey, Einstein,” Odd greets. He glances between Jeremie and Aelita. “I guess Princess told you, huh?”

“Norway for the summer?” he asks.

“Yup!” Odd replies. “Well, maybe not the whole summer, but a few weeks at least. My mom’s excited to meet my school pals.”

“And that sounds horrifying,” Ulrich states. Odd elbows him into silence.

“I’m sorry I’ll miss it,” Yumi replies. Jeremie glances at her. He can’t tell if she’s serious or lying through her teeth. “I’d like to see where you spawned from,” she adds.

“Ha-ha-ha, so funny,” Odd replies. He sticks his tongue out at her. “So, you in?” he asks, looking at Jeremie.

Jeremie shrugs, adjusts his glasses. “I have to check with my parents,” he says finally. “They might have plans.”

Aelita stares at him with wide, guileless eyes. “But they’ll probably say yes, right? For a week at least? It would be great to get away from everything, wouldn’t it?”

“I’ll see,” Jeremie lies.

//

“How is Maman?” he asks when his father calls on Saturday.

“She’s sleeping,” his father replies. “She had treatment on Friday.”

“How are her hands?”

“The neuropathy is getting worse,” his father admits. “She can’t hold her books anymore without dropping them.” Jeremie lays on his bed and stares up at the off-white ceiling. “She’s looking forward to seeing you again. Only a few more weeks, huh?”

“Yes,” Jeremie replies.

“It’ll be good to have you around again,” his father says. Jeremie listens as his father relates news from his aunt about Patrick, listens as he skims over the latest treatments with genuine optimism. He’s quieter than usual though, and his father picks up on it. “Jeremie, everything alright?”

“Yes, Papa,” he replies. “It’s been a long day.”

When Aelita looks at him expectantly the next day he simply shakes his head. Even if his mother had been feeling better, he’d known that it wouldn’t happen. His family didn’t have the money to send him north for a week or two in the summer.

“Oh no, really?” she asks.

“We’re visiting my grandmother,” he lies. “And it’s my cousin’s birthday.”

Odd gives him a long, considering look. “Another time, yeah, Einstein?” he asks.

“Yeah, definitely,” he agrees.

//

“What’s this?” Jeremie asks, looking at the envelope and ticket.

“You never visited me in Norway,” Odd replies, “so you’re making up for it by visiting us in Scotland for the New Year.”

“Odd, I can’t-”

“You one hundred percent can,” Odd interrupts. “Yumi and Aelita already agreed.”

“Come on, Jer,” Ulrich adds. “You’ll miss us by then.”

Jeremie stares at the ticket in his hands. He looks up at Ulrich and Odd. “I can pay you back for it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ulrich replies. “Think of it as an early Christmas present.”

Jeremie nods. He’s still staring at the ticket when Aelita knocks on the door. Odd lets her in and she smiles when she sees Jeremie holding the ticket. “Isn’t it great?” she asks. “I was worried about seeing each other again, but this is perfect! I’ve never been to Scotland, have you?”

“No,” Jeremie replies. He looks up and grins at them. “I’ve never been out of the country,” he admits.

“Well, we’re rectifying that travesty,” Odd says. “First Scotland, then Norway in the summer.” He glances over at Ulrich. “Think Yumers will take us to Japan with her next time she goes back?”

Ulrich considers it. “I don’t think Japan is ready for you,” he says finally.

Odd throws a pillow at Ulrich’s head and it devolves to the two wrestling. Aelita sits down next to Jeremie, her fingers tangling with his. He looks over at her curiously and she gives him a small, warm smile. He squeezes her fingers, folding the ticket and carefully placing it in his pocket for safe-keeping.

. . … . .

It’s not that he was ashamed of how much money his parents had (or didn’t have as the case may be). He always had a loving home, a warm meal, and parents who _made it work_ no matter what. He didn’t have the newest technology – his phone was given to him when he enrolled in Kadic and his laptop was a gift from his aunt and uncle for his birthday. He’d had to wear Patrick’s hand-me-downs, and he’d had to put up with the teasing from his classmates when they’d noticed, the snide comments that his father worked multiple jobs around town.

Coming to Kadic had been a release from that mindset. He’d gotten in on a scholarship, but so had others. It was a fresh start where no one knew his family, no one knew Patrick. And he hadn’t wanted his friends to judge him or pity him like the people back home. It takes him five years to realize that they never cared about it to start with.

Looking back, he feels kind of foolish that he hadn’t noticed earlier.


End file.
